


In The Middle of The Night

by azfell



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blood and Injury, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28098861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azfell/pseuds/azfell
Summary: SEE TAGS FOR APPLICABLE TRIGGER WARNINGS.Crowley receives a late night visit from Aziraphale, his rival. He's bloody, bruised, scared, and admits he doesn't know where else to go before collapsing into Crowley's arms.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 117





	In The Middle of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> SEE TAGS FOR APPLICABLE TRIGGER WARNINGS. Enjoy!

Crowley was sitting in his living room, alone. The fireplace was going, spreading warmth throughout the room and casting beautifully eerie shadows everywhere. His yellow eyes were closed, locks of his shoulder length red hair hanging over his face. He was letting his imagination run wild, trying to think of his next scheme. He was thinking up what sort of chaos he could cause next, and how to get around Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale was always there to “keep the peace” and whatnot. He didn’t appreciate Crowley’s desire for a bit of chaos and world domination, so every time Crowley tried something, Aziraphale showed up within moments to shut him down. He usually tried talking things out with Crowley first, which never really got him anywhere. After that unsuccessful attempt, Aziraphale just fought him. As soft as Aziraphale looked, he was remarkably strong and usually had little trouble taking Crowley out. 

Of course Crowley wanted to win, and he wanted his plans to be successful, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to the showdown with Aziraphale. It had become sort of a routine, and despite never fairing well, Crowley actually had fun doing it. 

His next plan was looking like it was going to involve mind control, though Crowley wasn’t sure how yet. The details could be worked out later. He was smiling to himself when he heard three weak knocks at his door. 

His eyes shot open as he frowned. It was the middle of the night- whoever had the  _ audacity  _ to knock on his door at this hour was surely going to get an earful. He stormed over to his door and flung it open, wearing the nastiest look on his face he could muster. 

Just as he opened his mouth to say something angry, he realized who was in front of him. Aziraphale, and he looked like shit. He was shivering, his clothes were torn and shredded. His face was covered in blood and bruises, and he looked... dazed. His eyes were unfocused. Had he been  _ drugged? _

Crowley opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He couldn’t find what to say. He noticed Aziraphale was swaying a bit, he looked like he could pass out any second. He took a sharp breath in before coughing up blood, looking more unstable than before.

Aziraphale’s hazy, tear filled eyes met Crowley’s. “...didn’t know where else to go…” he finally gasped. His legs gave out from under him, and he collapsed. Crowley dove and caught him, holding him tightly to his chest. 

He didn’t know what to do, he felt panicked. Of course he and Aziraphale fought, but he didn’t  _ really  _ ever want to see the goody-two-shoes hurt. Not like this. 

“Okay, first things first, let’s get you inside,” Crowley muttered to himself. He lifted the unconscious man up and pulled him inside, finally setting him down on the couch. 

Crowley wasn’t good in situations like this. He felt overwhelmed, there was so much damage to Aziraphale’s body he didn’t know where to start. And he wanted to know what happened to him- who would do such a thing? 

Crowley decided he should start with the blood. Most of it was dried and was caked on Aziraphale’s face that needed to be cleaned off, though there were still a couple spots that appeared to still actively be bleeding. He left the room momentarily, returning with a damp cloth and some rubbing alcohol. He rolled up his long sleeves and set to work on cleaning Aziraphale up. Upon closer inspection, Crowley noticed that the blood wasn’t just on his face- it was in his hair, down his neck and chest. Not very much was on his shirt. It looked as though The shirt had been haphazardly put on after the blood had already begun. With every new thing he noticed, Crowley’s worry grew. 

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this,” he hissed. 

Being as gentle as possible, he wiped away the blood and cleaned the wounds with the rubbing alcohol until he reached the collar of Aziraphale’s shirt. Crowley hesitated, wondering if this was too…  _ personal.  _ He worried that the removal of any clothing while unconscious would just upset Aziraphale more. He compromised by unbuttoning the top few buttons, where thankfully the blood seemed to stop anyway. He carefully redid the buttons before putting away the cloth and alcohol. 

Crowley wasn’t a medical expert by any means, but he’d examined himself quite a few times for bruised and cracked ribs and knew generally what to look for. He listened intently to Aziraphale’s breathing and felt his chest. It was clear something wasn’t right, but nothing bad enough to constitute an emergency. Unless it was dire, Crowley was going to let Aziraphale decide if and when he wanted to go to the hospital. This was a delicate situation, and Crowley was trying to be as mindful as possible of Aziraphale’s boundaries while also taking care of him. 

Crowley hadn’t left Aziraphale’s side for longer than thirty seconds since he’d arrived on his doorstep. While unconscious, Aziraphale had been receiving constant doting and care. After a while, all Crowley knew to do was hold the other’s hand and hope. 

It was a couple hours before Aziraphale began to wake up. He couldn’t remember what had happened right away, or where he was. The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the soft bed he was in. It wasn’t his own. Where was he? The second thing he noticed was the warm feeling on his hand. He managed to roll his head over, shocked to find Crowley of all people holding his hand, sitting in a chair that had been pulled up next to the bed, looking like he was going to be sick with worry. 

Upon noticing Aziraphale was awake, Crowley retracted his hand and stood up quickly. He cleared his throat, not making eye contact with Aziraphale. “You’re awake,” he said flatly. 

Aziraphale could only manage a whimper in return. Crowley was trying with everything he had to keep a straight face, not let on how scared he was, but with Aziraphale’s little whimper, his facade came down for just a moment. Before Aziraphale could open his mouth to try and speak again, Crowley’s face was back to stone. 

“I’ve drawn a bath for you, just down the hall and to the left. You’ll also find some towels and clean clothes.” Crowley nodded once before turning on his heel and exiting the bedroom. 

Aziraphale croaked out a weak “thank you,” but Crowley had already left. 

Crowley had his back against the wall, just outside the bedroom door. He took a sharp breath in, trying to compose himself. He was  _ not _ going to cry in front of Aziraphale, he was  _ not  _ going to let Aziraphale think he was weak, he was  _ not  _ going to let slip how much he cared. As he heard the bed creak and Aziraphale’s feet hit the floor, he hurried off to the kitchen to make some tea. 

By the time Aziraphale had returned, now dressed in clean clothes and alert, Crowley had prepared tea and set some biscuits out on the living room table. Aziraphale cautiously took a seat on the couch next to Crowley, not breaking eye contact with his rival. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said softly. 

“You’re welcome,” Crowley replied, still trying to be cold. He wasn’t doing a very good job. 

“Why did you help me?” 

Crowley scoffed. “What was I supposed to do, leave you out there?” 

Aziraphale shrugged and looked down. “You could have. You didn’t have to help me.” 

“Well, I’m not  _ that _ evil,” Crowley answered, almost offended. 

“Clearly,” Aziraphale said, a small smile on his face. 

Crowley stared into his tea, unsure of what to say. He had a million questions, a million things to say, and still a million things he wanted to do to make sure Aziraphale was okay. He was having a hard enough time keeping himself together as it was, he doubted he could handle any answers to anything he had to ask or say. 

There was a period of silence as both men drank their tea. Aziraphale kept trying to make eye contact with Crowley, but Crowley kept his face in his cup. 

“Why me?” Crowley finally asked. “Why come to me, of all people?”

“I know you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly. “I knew you wouldn’t turn me away or not care about… what happened. You’re a good person, Crowley.” 

Crowley frowned, but didn’t say anything. Aziraphale set down his cup and moved towards Crowley. Before he knew what was happening, he felt Aziraphale’s arms around him, and his face buried in the crook of his neck. That embrace was all it took for Crowley to fall apart again. He returned the gesture, wrapping his arms tightly around Aziraphale and sobbing into his shoulder. 

“You fucking scared me,” Crowley cried out. “What happened to you, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale pulled back a bit, still touching Crowley closely. He looked close to tears himself as he shook his head. “I- I don’t even know. I was out with a friend, and I think someone slipped something in my drink. I just remember feeling dizzy… I never passed out. I was just too weak to fight anyone off me. I couldn’t stop him, he just…” Aziraphale couldn’t seem to bring himself to finishing the sentence. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Crowley assured, taking Aziraphale’s hand in his and squeezing tight. 

“I was still conscious the whole time, but I don’t remember anything after he started hurting me. I must have spaced out. I just remember coming to again, still feeling dizzy and sore everywhere. I didn’t know where to go… I just thought of you, and knew I’d be safe here.” 

Crowley pulled Aziraphale back into his chest, holding him as close as possible. “You are. You’re always safe here.” He ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s soft, white hair. “Do you know who did it?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, I don’t.” 

Crowley’s brows furrowed. “I’ll find them,” he said angrily. “Let’s hope God looks away when I do.” 

“You don’t have to do that for me, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, placing his hand on Crowley’s face. 

“But they hurt you,” the taller one argued. “I don’t want anyone around here thinking they can get away with that.” 

Aziraphale didn’t reply verbally, instead pressing his forehead to Crowley’s and closing his eyes. Crowley wasn’t sure his heart was still beating, nor that he was still breathing. Aziraphale’s lips were mere inches from his, and it didn’t even seem like Aziraphale noticed. As badly as Crowley wanted to close the gap between them, he was still trying to be extra mindful of Aziraphale’s boundaries and comfort. 

Aziraphale’s eyes opened a bit, and Crowley was mesmerized. “Do you want to kiss me?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley wondered if he could read minds.

Crowley managed to choke out a weak “yes.” 

Aziraphale leaned closer and closed the gap between their lips, kissing Crowley sweetly and softly. Each savored the taste and feel of the other’s lips, scared to death they’d never get to feel them again. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Crowley sighed after they parted. 

Aziraphale smiled. “I think I have an idea.” He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. “Oh, dear, it’s terribly late. I hope I haven’t imposed too much.”

“Not at all. Why don’t you stay here tonight? So I can make sure you’re okay and all…” 

“I’d love to,” Aziraphale replied, punctuating his sentence with another soft kiss on Crowley’s cheek. 

Crowley felt himself blushing and wanting desperately to hide his face. “Right, er, follow me then and I’ll show you to my room,” he said, standing up. He led Aziraphale through his house, finally stopping in the doorway of the bedroom. 

“Where will you sleep?” Aziraphale asked as he sat on the bed. 

“I can take the couch, you need to rest up here.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. “That won’t do.” He grabbed Crowley’s hands and pulled him towards the bed. “You should stay in here… you know, in case I need more tending to.” 

“Of course,” Crowley said, smiling softly. He slipped under the covers as Aziraphale did the same, both men trying to get as close to the other as physically possible. 

“Thanks again,” Aziraphale whispered. 

“I’m just glad you’re safe now,” Crowley answered. 

“Me too.” 

  
As Crowley dozed off, Aziraphale in his arms, he thought to himself,  _ this is so much better than world domination.  _


End file.
